The birds

The birds

The first time I planted sage
chicken was cooking on the grill-

I add herbs to this garden of mine,
a naturalist,
I know I can make anything grow.
A little water, a little mulch,
a little background music.
The soil is damp to my touch.
I work it like clay.

The background music is soft-
then loud- a cacophony of sound
harmonized to the earth.

They are beautiful – these birds.
I modify nature, fingers work an etude
which the birds hear.

I finish a gorgeous piece of work
and close my eyes.
When I waken, they are there –
pulling up the sage in single strokes.

There is netting on the sage now,
attached over the earth
by my bleeding hands.
The chicken is on the grill –
cooking –


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